A story based on the same place and empires of a roleplay I created. :D Also a hopeful start to my end of writer's block!
Lucas wiped the sweat from his brow as he gazed at the smoking ruins of yet another small village. The houses were burning, bloodied corpses and debris littered the streets numerous spears jutted from the bodies of the village's defenders. They all had a flag hastily tied unto them, the image of a blood red claw painted on the black cloth.
"By the gods...look what those barbarians did."
Lucas turned around to see a red headed man atop a brown horse trotting towards him. His face was full of disgust at the slaughter before them. "The damn Imperial king ain't doing a bloody thing for our people Lucas and you know it."
"Quiet down Myron," Lucas snapped. "Those Imperials are coming this way." The two riders turned their horses towards a large group of knights descendign upon them. The lead knight held a large flag high in the air, the symbol of a lion displayed proudly upon it. The slowed their speed to a halt a few feet from them, a knight with no helmet breaking from the group and riding in front of them.
His horse reared and whinnied in front of them before the man steadied it. "Good morning gentleman." he said in an emotionless tone.
"What may I ask is so good about the morning?" Myron asked, motioning towards the wreckage of the village.
"My apologies my lord," Lucas said quickly. "My friend means well but he quite frusterated at the moment. After all he...we just lost our vilage to marauders." Lucas said this to the knight with little emotion, not because he had a cold heart but rather a cool head. His father had taught him to keep his emotions in check even in the most direst situations, otherwise he'd be doomed. Thankfully his parents were safe in the Woaden capital of Braug. His friend however was not so fortunate.
"No thanks to you bloody Imperials!" Myron spat. Lucas glared at him and turned back to the Imperial knight. He continued to give them both emotionless stares before turning to the village.
"Marauders you say," he began. Lucas squinted his eyes at what appeared to be a claw like mark burned into the man's shaven head. The man turned his head quickly and glared at Lucas. "The talon on the flag is indeed the same on my head boy. The damned barbarians responsible for this are known as the Bloody Talon."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Bloody Talon?" He turned to Myron who gave him the same confused expression.
"The Bloody Talon are a group of renegade easterners," the knight said. "They travel the west searching for villages to plunder and people to kill, all for their demented idea of a world ruled by easterners alone."
Myron curled his fists. "So a bunch of fanatical zealots massacred my home?! They couldn't have! This had to be done by a professional army, not a bunch of...savages!"
Suddenly another knight approached the group. "Lord Keith, we should get moving. The rebels probably have a head start on us."
Lucas and Myron's eyes opened wide. "You're Keith Stronghammer! The most reknowned knight in all the western lands!" Lucas said in awe.
Keith gave the boys a hard stare. "I see my reputaion preceeds me."
"Why shouldn't it?" Lucas questioned, barely containing his excitement. Keith Stronghammer was known as a fighter of justice, a crusader, a hammer of the weak and a punishment from the gods to his enemies.
"Yet you couldn't arrive here to fend of those savages." Myron said flatly.
Keith turned and stared at him before turing back to his fellow knight. "Let us leave immediatly." he ordered. The knight nodded and yelled, causing the other horsemen to gallop towards them. They passed the two boys, the older knights following behind them.
Lucas stared in awe at the group before turning to his companion. "No worries my friend, your family will be avenged."
Myron nodded, no emotion on his face. "Oh they will be Lucas...but they will be avenged by my hand!" With that he took off, his steed galloping towards the direction of the knights leaving a shocked Lucas alone.
"Myron you bloody idiot!" Lucas yelled, urging his horse to a fast gallop behind Myron's.